Chapter 12
Ivy left home and drove the few blocks to the town square, stopping just outside Java Junction. Dax was waiting for her and climbed into her car, leaning over to give her a brief, sweet kiss in greeting. She knew the gesture was a small one but believed it thoughtful. So many little things about this man appealed to her.
“Ready to visit with Deke Manchester?” Dax asked as he fastened his seatbelt.
She had contacted the art gallery owner yesterday and asked if she and Dax might come by and speak with him about something connecting his gallery with the Lost Creek community. Manchester agreed to visit with them, and they would meet at ten o’clock, when he opened for business.
“I hope he’ll be able to put us in touch with several of his clients. Have you been working on the exercises Miss Moore gave you?” she asked.
“I have. Both yesterday and this morning. I’m glad you suggested I make an appointment with her. I can already tell that what she has me doing is going to make a big difference in how I approach my singing.”
She had only been slightly disappointed that Sylvia Moore had not wanted Dax to perform at Java Junction this weekend. The former choir teacher had agreed that the music and lyrics Dax had created were excellent, but she thought his voice needed work, especially his breath control. Dax had shared how Sylvia wanted to work with him for a solid three weeks before he made his debut in public.
“I think it will be better for me not being the only act playing when I do perform for the first time,” he told Ivy. “With others getting up and playing a song or two, the focus won’t be solely on me. I do, however, plan to close out the evening. I’ll be ready.” Grinning, he added, “Sylvia said she would come and listen in order to give me her evaluation afterward.”
“I recall how much other students enjoyed being in her choirs. They brought home more than a few state championships over the years. I’m glad you found her easy to work with and helpful.”
“I’ll see her again this afternoon, and then we’ll do three sessions next week. I’ve decided the two songs I’ll focus on for our first fusion night, and those are the ones I’ll be polishing with her.”
By now, Ivy had turned onto Main Street. It was only a few more blocks to Manchester’s gallery, and she pulled into a parking spot on the street in front of the gallery. She doubted on a Thursday morning it would be busy.
Entering the gallery, she caught her first glimpse of Deke Manchester. He was almost six feet tall and in his early fifties, his dark hair beginning to be threaded with silver.
“You must be Ivy Hart and Dax Tennyson,” he said cheerfully, coming to shake both their hands. “Come have a seat,” he offered, leading them to a table in the corner of the gallery.
Ivy couldn’t help but skim her gaze across the space, noting the various paintings and sculptures strategically scattered about.
After Deke sat, she said, “You have a really fine eye. The artwork exhibited shows that.”
“Placement is key to selling art,” Deke said. “Most people don’t notice that, though. Do you have a background in art?”
“I worked at a gallery in Houston for six years.” She named it and Deke nodded, saying he was familiar with it.
“I’m from Denver myself,” Deke said, “but I moved to Lost Creek a few years ago after a pretty tourist who came into my gallery caught my eye. Our relationship wound up not working out, but I fell in love with Lost Creek and the Texas Hill Country. I decided to stay permanently and haven’t regretted doing so. Tell me about your proposition.”
Dax took the lead. “I recently opened Java Junction on the square and had an idea to begin holding fusion nights at the coffeehouse. I want to merge art and music together, setting up easels and table displays of artists’ work around my place a few nights each month during the summer. I’ll also be pulling in musicians from throughout the area to play. People in the community can come and walk through the art on display and enjoy listening to local talent perform, all while sipping on their favorite coffees and teas.”
Nodding, Deke said, “I like it. I went to school at Colorado State in Fort Collins, and the town used to have art walks on a regular basis. Art wasn’t displayed in a single venue, however. It was all along a couple of different streets, which encouraged people go inside and view art in different merchants’ shops. Everything from a bookstore to an antique shop to a tea company. The local bars would sell wine by the glass, and people would stroll along the street, going in and out of various stores, sipping wine and viewing art. I can see why you would want to confine everything to your coffeehouse, though, especially with different musicians playing.”
“We thought it would be a great way to get the community involved in supporting our local artists and musicians,” Ivy said. “I’m a painter myself, and I recently moved back to Lost Creek, where I grew up. Because I’ve been gone from the area about a decade, I no longer am in touch with the artists’ community. That’s where you would come in.”
“We need to find artists who’d be willing to have their work on display at Java Junction,” Dax continued. “We’d like for each piece to be available for sale, but if an artist would simply prefer the exposure to the public, that’s fine, too.”
“As an art gallery owner, I collect a percentage of an artist’s sale for having housed their work,” Deke said. “Would you be taking a commission?”
“No,” Dax assured the gallery owner. “In fact, we could have placards drawn up which reference your gallery. If someone is interested in purchasing a painting or sculpture, we could direct them to you the next day so you could receive your slice of the pie. I don’t want to handle any sales. The only thing that I would do is mark a painting off the market if someone wanted it.”
Deke thought a moment. “I wouldn’t mind being on hand for this first fusion night, along with my different artists. Some will want to show up and talk about their artwork. A few are shy enough and would rather me be there to speak to potential clients for them. What date are you looking at? How many pieces do you want represented?”
“I’m aiming for the first Saturday in June as the debut,” Dax said. “Tourist season will pick up with summer. I think I’m going to go for the first and third Saturday nights of the month for June, July, and August. We could also try one weekday night the second and fourth week, just to see if we could stir any interest in the middle of the week or not.”
“What we need now is the connection to the artists,” Ivy explained. “Can you put us in touch with them? It would be great if you could speak to them before we do, so they would know we have a legitimate proposition for them.”
“First, I’d like to come by the coffeehouse and see your setup,” Deke said. “That would give me an idea of the space and how many pieces we might display without looking overcrowded. Especially doing this a couple of times a month, you will want to change out the artists being spotlighted each time. I could help rotate both artists and pieces for you. It would give me a new outlet in which to display my clients’ work. People who would never think to set foot inside an art gallery might come for a night to listen to music and find that a painting speaks to them.”
Ivy was relieved to hear that Deke wanted to place the pieces himself. While she was talented at arranging art, it took precious time. Since it would be Deke’s clients represented, she was pleased he wanted to do the placements himself.
“You can drop by anytime,” Dax said enthusiastically. “Java Junction opens at six in the morning and closes at eight at night. On fusion nights, however, we’ll remain open until ten.”
“My gallery closes at six,” Deke said. “I can stop by after closing tonight if you don’t mind.”
“I’m happy to show you the space,” Dax said. “I’ll set you up with a coffee or tea of your choice.”
“Sounds like a solid plan,” the gallery owner said. “I’ll pull together a list this morning of different artists who might be interested. Once I’ve seen the size of your coffeehouse, I can then start contacting them.”
“If you could firm up the list of artists willing to participate in a week’s time, that would be ideal,” Ivy told him. “I’d also like for you to choose which pieces will be on display and get pictures to me, I can set up a page on the Java Junction website to give the public a sneak peek. We can also do a little bit of advertising. On our dime, not yours,” she assured Deke.
“Okay,” Deke said, smiling broadly. “I think this will be an outlet my artists will look forward to. Can we meet again on Monday morning and start ironing out details? That should give me enough time to talk to my clients and have photographs of the art ready to go.”
“Monday is good,” Dax said, looking to her as she nodded.
“Why don’t we meet at Java Junction at nine on Monday?” Deke suggested.
“That works for us,” Ivy said.
They shook hands with Deke and left the gallery, returning to her car.
“That went smoothly,” she noted.
Dax chuckled. “All except the putting stuff on the website part. Believe it or not, I don’t even have a website. It’s been on the back burner to do. I know everywhere else has one. I simply wanted to get the doors of Java Junction open. Since customers have been coming in, the website simply slipped my mind. With these fusion nights, however, it would be smart to have a website. I’ll have to hustle to find someone who can set one up for me.”
“Look no further,” she told him. “Besides working at the art gallery, I also have done website and graphic design on the side. I’ve created Harper’s Weddings with Hart new website. I’ve also been working on updating the Lost Creek Vineyards’ website, too. Dad even has me designing some new labels for various wines already in place, and I’ll work on designs for the new wines created for this coming year.”
“I have no idea what all that involves, but I’ll definitely pay you to put together a website for me. Don’t even think about doing this for free.”
“I’ll charge you a fair price, Dax. We can work on the site together this weekend. Once you purchase the domain name and we get a host, they’re actually fairly easy to build.”
She pulled into a parking spot close to Java Junction.
“That sounds good,” he said. “I also need to find some musicians to play. And you did promise to introduce me to country music. How do we go about doing both?”
“Let me think about the musicians. In the meantime, we can go down to Boerne to listen to some country music tonight or tomorrow night.” She grinned. “There might be dancing involved.”
Dax groaned. “I don’t dance.”
“Do you have two left feet?”
“I have no idea. Remember, I was the DJ behind the turntable. I always was the one playing the music, never dancing to it.”
Ivy started to ask about high school dances and then recalled he spoke about how much he’d worked growing up. She doubted he’d ever attended a dance because of that.
“I’ll teach you how to dance,” she offered casually. “You already like music as it is. Dancing is merely an extension of enjoying a song. Who knows? It might give you a different appreciation for music and even aid your songwriting.”
“When would you like me to pick you up?”
Ivy hesitated a moment. She had not really talked to anyone about the fact that she was seeing Dax. Harper had pressed her after she had gone to Blackwood BBQ for dinner with him, and she had told her sister that Dax was nice and she’d enjoyed his company.
Usually, Ivy told Harper everything. They were only six months apart in age and had been more like twins growing up. For some reason, though, she wanted to keep her relationship with Dax all to herself for a bit longer. Maybe she was being protective of it because of how sour her only serious relationship had turned out, but this one was something special, unlike anyone she’d ever been involved with. Not that she wanted to keep Dax a secret from her sister, family, and friends, but Ivy wanted to savor it a bit longer on her own before she introduced him into the fold.
“Let me swing by and pick you up,” she offered. “I know where I’m going, and you can sit back and enjoy the scenery on our way to Boerne.”
“What am I supposed to wear?” he asked. “I don’t own a pair of boots. I suppose they’re mandatory.”
“Most people will be in jeans and boots. Do you have a pair of loafers? You can’t wear tennis shoes because they don’t scoot across the ground easily.”
“I do have an old pair of loafers. Jeans and loafers it is. What time? Is tonight good for you?”
“I’ll close the tasting room at six. Sarah is working with me, and she would be happy to do all the closing for me. I’d need to run home and change and could get to you by six-thirty.”
“It’s a date,” he said.
And this time, Ivy knew it would be.